Eruption
by GillyLee12
Summary: Two of Scott’s brothers are in mortal danger at the same time, and he can only save one of them… TV Verse Rated ‘M’ for brief sexual references. Written for the TIWF 2004 Ficlet Swap Challenge


**All my thanks to SamW for her help.**

* * *

'Quamquam animus meminisse horret... incipiam.'

Pliny the Younger, Letter 6.20

The tinkling of plates and cutlery, requests for handing over food items and the rumbling of stomachs were the only sounds that broke the silence in the dining room. Chicken Tandoori, the smell made Scott's mouth water. Impatiently he waited for his father to finish ladling out the steamed vegetables for himself. But Jeff seemingly lost in thought, was slowly stirring the contents of the bowl, occasionally putting some of it on his plate. Scott's stomach growled as he inhaled the smoky tanged aroma of the chicken.

Finally his father started to hand over the bowl and then the emergency alarm went off. Jeff and Brains left immediately for the lounge. Scott threw a last longing look at the food before his field commander mode kicked in and he determinedly turned away to follow his father and Brains.

Virgil sighed, moved back his chair and stood up, "Come on, Gordon, Al."

"Someone ought to tell the world when we are having a meal," complained Gordon.

The murmur of the voices drifting over from the lounge was unintelligible for the three left behind. Until suddenly they heard Gordon wail.

"Oh man! No! No!"

Broadly grinning Alan returned, a few minutes later, to the dining room. "Gordon's double crewing," he said. "And father's apologizing, Grandma but can he and Brains have their dinner in the lounge?"

Mrs Tracy sighed, then nodded.

"What's the emergency?" asked Tin-Tin handing over Brains' plate to Alan.

"Wait, sweetie," interrupted Grandma. She took Jeff's plate from Alan's hand and added more broccoli to it. Broccoli that Jeff somehow had managed to avoid. "Now, make sure you give this one to your father."

Shaking with suppressed mirth Alan left with the two plates.

"What's the emergency?" asked Tin-Tin again when he had returned.

"A volcano, that one in Italy, you know, Italy in Europe, has erupted and trapped a couple of vulcanologists."

"Which volcano?" asked Tin-Tin.

"There's more than one?"

"Two," said Tin-Tin.

"Three," said Grandma.

"A dozen or more," said Kyrano. "But I do not know if they are all active."

"Gee," said Alan. "A dozen. No, it's that famous one. The Vesuvio."

* * *

"...so there is a second observatory, Scott," said John. "The official one, so to speak, that's on our maps and this one that is underground and far closer to the active crater. I'll send you the map reference. Oh and there are five men trapped, not four."

"Thanks, John," said Scott. "So I will have to set up Mobile Control on the mountain itself when I arrive."

"Well," John hesitated, "I wouldn't do that, Scott, if I were you. The Vesuvio is famous for his ash emissions. Clogs up filters and air inlets. Very abrasive, too."

"Oh, great," answered Scott.

The rest of his flight to Italy he debated if he would have Virgil fly up close to where the observatory was and drop the pod with the Mole or have his brothers drive up there in their digging machine.

* * *

When Scott set up Mobile Control a man came jogging up.

"Me, Luigiano Affetocespuglio. Ufficiale Napoli..." Scott didn't register the rest of what he said, as he was still trying to translate the first words.

"Ufficiale?" hesitated Scott.

The man nodded, "Impiegato." And when he saw Scott still frowning he added, "Burocratio."

Scott smiled. "You're a civil servant," he said. "You're a liaison between me and the town authorities."

"Si, si. Me, how do you say, me tell-a the others what-a you want and then I give-a you one."

"That's a great help, thanks," said Scott. "I think." And he sat down hastily.

"Ies veree busy mountain," said the civil servant. "Much, how you say? Burst outs."

"Eruptions," said Scott.

"Si, many lava like a fontana." Affetocespuglio depicted a fountain. "And many ash. Many, many ash, like-a in Pompeii, the people, they did the, how do you say?" He clasped his hand around his throat and made choking noises.

"They choked," said Scott.

"Si, they did the choking and that macchina it will do the choking too. Many ash."

Affetocespuglio looked up at the sky where International Rescue's huge transporter had appeared.

"Thunderbird Two to Mobile Control, where do you want us, Scott?"

"Here," answered Scott curtly.

"Here? Uhm, I mean, there?" asked Virgil. "But according to those map references you send me that observatory is halfway up the mountain."

"Here," repeated Scott. "You and Gordon will have to drive up in the Mole. I think the filters of the Mole are better equipped to handle that ash than those of Thunderbird Two."

"But wouldn't we lose a lot of time then, Scott?" asked Virgil.

"Not that much as we would if you clogged up and crashed," snapped Scott.

"FAB, Mobile Control."

Thunderbird Two landed a short distance away, its vertical jets throwing up a lot of dirt and ash.

Affetocespuglio leant coughing against the side of Mobile Control.

"Like-a il poveroni in museo," he spluttered. "Ies no good."

"What museo?" asked Scott as he watched Thunderbird Two rise on its telescopic legs and the pod door open.

"Pompeii museo. Dead people in museo. They got-a buried under ash and went to museo. People pay to see-a the bodies. Ies no good."

"What? No, no, that's no good. Virgil? Brains tells me it's possible that we'll lose radio contact as soon as you're underground. Something to do with the rock formation."

"Good things to look in museo," said Affetocespuglio. "The, how do you say? Lettera?"

"Lettera?"

"Si, writing like in toilets, capice? You have in Ameerikka too? Annabella she has the big..."

The man moved his hands before his chest. "I seni? Titta?"

"Tits, uhm, breasts," said Scott.

"Si, si," Affetocespuglio beamed. "They veree same like us. They like-a the musica, the vino and the sesso too."

"Sesso?" Not for the first time that morning -- no, night... no, it's morning here, night on Tracy Island -- Scott wished they had given him someone who spoke better English. Maybe John can interpret. His hand went to the button to contact Thunderbird Five.

"Si," Affetocespuglio let his tongue hang out of his mouth and bucked his hips rhythmically, "the fuck, capice?"

Scott let his hand fall from the button. Better not ask John to interpret.

"Uhm, yes, say, Affie, Affeset..."

"Affetocespuglio, Luigiano Affetocespuglio, licence to kill." The man doubled over with laughter.

"Ha ha, very funny," said Scott. "Listen Luigi, could you find me a cup of coffee? And something to eat." He opened his mouth and pointed with his finger. "Food. Capice?"

"Si, si," laughed Affetocespuglio and ran off.

"And a couple of aspirins," muttered Scott as he turned to the Mobile Control and started scanning the Mole's progress.

* * *

"Phew," said Gordon, wiping his forehead. "I know now how a steak on a barbecue must feel. We got four out of those five out, Scott. Number five is at the other end in an annex. There is a corridor around the crater that leads to it. Virgil is looking to see if that corridor is still intact."

"I think it would be easier to go to the other end too and start drilling from there, Gord."

"OK, Scott, that sounds like a plan to me. Let me see that map again."

* * *

Virgil walked down the well-lighted corridor. It felt strange knowing that on one side was a live volcano. And he wondered what material was truly lava proof. Brains will know, he thought. Then he remembered a book he had often read as a child. He couldn't recall the name but it was about a group of people hibernating in caves in a volcano. He grinned, 'And they diverted a lava stream to heat the stove. Wonder what grandma would say if she had to cook on lava.' His stomach growled.

Suddenly the corridor ended in a cave.

"Whoa!"

Before him was a circular pool. Only this was a lava filled pool. The heat made him perspire almost immediately. He glanced around and found no sign of the fifth scientist. Wiping his forehead with his sleeve he retreated a few steps.

And then the ground beneath his feet heaved. And he heard a noise.

* * *

The thermal-imaging systems of the Mole told Gordon that he had reached a cave, or rather a small labyrinth of caves, and still no sign of the fifth scientist. Leaving the Mole, he started to search on foot.

And then the ground beneath his feet heaved. And he heard a noise.

* * *

Scott sat behind the Mobile Control and waited. Brains had been right. Radio contact was out. He could hardly see on the scanner if his brothers were moving and he had to continuously brush ash from all the flat surfaces.

And then the ground beneath his feet heaved. And he heard a noise.

* * *

Virgil staggered. He spread his arms trying to regain his balance. But a small boulder bowled him over and he fell face down on the ground. A larger boulder dropped from the ceiling and crashed onto his right arm. A hail of little sparks like fireflies crackled through his head. He tried to pull his arm back but he couldn't. He was well and truly pinned down.

* * *

When Gordon turned around he was hit in the face with what felt was a bowling ball. Staggering against the rock wall he brought up his arms to protect his face. Surprised, he saw fireworks erupting around him. Funny, he thought, I didn't know it was the fourth of July. A large tree crashing into his chest, twice followed the bowling ball. Nerve endings started revolting all over his body. He tasted the iron flavour of blood in his mouth as he slowly sank to his knees. Time had slowed down to half its normal speed. Gordon saw a shoe in front of his face and he marvelled at the details, the tiniest crack in the leather, places where the shoe polish had not come into contact with the leather. He raised his head a little further. Before him stood a man, his face contorted in horror, a stream of unintelligible Italian flowing from his mouth.

"Hello, I'm from International Rescue," croaked Gordon.

The man screamed, turned and ran away.

That was a mistake, thought Gordon. Suddenly he thought of an old TV series that he had once seen on a very, very, very late show. It had an Italian soldier in it, a captain or some rank like that. "What a mistake-a to make-a," had been his catchphrase. Gordon heard the sound of the running man fade in the distance and then a scream suddenly cut off. "What a mistake-a to make-a," he murmured, during another display of fireworks. And then everything went black.

* * *

"Mobile Control to Thunderbird Five, come in, Thunderbird Five."

"Thunderbird Five. What's up, Scott?"

"An earthquake, a goddamn earthquake. It bowled me over, it bowled the Mobile Control Unit over," yelled Scott. "John? Can you see Virg and Gordon move?"

"No, Scott. I only get a rough reading, your scanner is more far more..."

"My scanner was smashed to pieces," Scott said. "Can't you recalibrate yours? I have to know if they're moving. If I have to get in there I have to know where they are."

"One sec, Scott," said John, "I'll see what I can do."

* * *

According to the hand scanner the door was hot, very hot but the scanner also showed that his brothers were behind it. Not closely behind it but still behind it. Standing on the left of the door he pushed the door handle down and pulled it open...

...Whatever had been behind the door was gone. That is assuming that even in a volcano observatory they would have more than a simple door between them and the actual crater. A large pool of lava lay before him. Around it was a small wall of rock. Scott looked around. On his right hand side he saw a body in the telltale International Rescue blue and behind it the drill bit of the Mole. "Gordon!" On his left he saw another... "Virgil!"

"Scott!"

In the short time it had took Scott to look around him the lava level in the pool had risen slightly. He could probably reach them if the rock wall was firm enough but could he get to both of his brothers in time? Somehow he doubted that.

Gordon was, by the looks of it unconscious, so... he wouldn't... probably... notice... when he... when he...

But Virg would. And he would need Virg to... to get over the loss of Gord. If he could ever get over something like that.

He shook his head. He had to choose but how could you choose between brothers.

And suddenly he found himself kneeling next to Virgil, scraping away at the boulder with his pocket-knife in a desperate attempt to get a better hold of the boulder.

"Scott? Scott?" said Virgil. "Scott, you never get this boulder from my arm. Not alone."

"I could try to..." he gestured helplessly to the arm with his knife.

"Oh, no. You're not going to cut my arm off with your Swiss army knife," said Virgil. "You do that and I'll stuff it down your throat so deep, that it comes out the other end."

"But Virg..."

"No way, Scott!"

"I'm sure Brains can make a fanta..."

"Oh, yes," said Virgil. "And I could learn to paint with my other hand or with my feet. But I never could play the piano again. Go get Gordon."

"Virg, I..."

"Scott, you're losing time."

"Virg, I cannot..."

"Yes, Scott, you can. For the sake of all the lives you will save after today, you can. And remember, Scott, I will always be with you, always!"

"I'll get to the surface and bring back all the help I can find, Virgil. And then we can get you from under that boulder."

Virgil looked at the ridge that was slowly dissolving under the onslaught of the lava. He smiled, "Yes, Scott, you do that, you do that."

* * *

The rock wall was firmer then he would have thought but still it was not easy to work his way to the other side. Reaching it he bent down and heaved Gordon over his shoulder in a fireman's grip. Turning to where Virgil lay, he shouted, "Hang on, Virg. I'll be back."

Virgil waved with his free arm and Scott turned back and went to the Mole. He hadn't gone far when the ground heaved again making Scott trip and fall on the ground. Rolling he managed to end beneath Gordon's body and thus cushioning his fall. But the dead weight of his younger brother winded him and it took him a couple of minutes to catch his breath and get up.

Looking back to where he'd left Virgil, he saw the lava flowing around the boulder.

* * *

Forcing himself not to think of... 'No, don't, don't think...' Scott carried Gordon to one of the benches in the Mole. Folding one of them down he looked at Gordon. Putting his fingers against his brother's neck he felt a steady pulse. He saw regular chest movements. Carefully he ran his fingers over Gordon's skull. A large bump but no blood and when Scott checked his brother's eyes with the flashlight he saw the pupils were the same size and contracting. "Just the mother of all headaches, Gordon," he said. Feeling along Gordon's chest he felt some cracked or broken ribs. Grabbing a stethoscope he listened to the various chest sounds. Those sounded good. Scott sat back on his heels and stroked back the dusty red hair from the dirty face. His stomach growled, Gordon's stomach growled. Stiffly Scott stood up and staggered to the main control unit and collapsed into the chair.

Banging his fists at the control panel he fought back the tears. Tracy men didn't cry but no Tracy man had ever had to leave a brother to die. He had saved Gordon but at what cost? He hit the control panel again, the sound and the echo reverberated through the Mole. Another bang. Scott stared at his hands lying in his lap. Another bang. By the time he realized it came from outside the Mole the banging had repeated itself a couple of times.

'That scientist,' he thought. 'I forgot all about that last scientist.'

Slowly he got up and went to the door.

The door slid open and at the same time Scott received a kick against his shin. "Owww."

"Oh my God, Scott... I'm sorry," said Virgil.

"Virg? Virgil? Oh my God, Virgil," whispered Scott. "What, what? How?"

"That last earth tremor? It moved that boulder just a fraction, thank God it was a fraction to the right side. I struggled to my feet, clamped myself tooth and nail to those rocks and limped over to the Mole."

"And started kicking, first at the door and then at me."

"Yeah, well, it's not as if there's a doorbell. Oh, and Scott? I'm glad you had to read the instruction booklet first before starting the Mole. Or else I wouldn't have made it before you left this place."

"Instruction booklet? Instruction booklet? Virg, if you didn't have that busted arm I would kick you in the shins!"

"Is that a promise?"

"That's a promise! Come on, Virg, let's go home and finally have that dinner."

"Yeah. Hey, how do we do that? I can't fly, not with this arm. You have to fly home in Thunderbird One and return with the jet. We can put that in the pod. Of course, because of Gordon, you have to return immediately and fly us and Thunderbird Two to the island. You know, Scott, there are some rations in TB2. You can have them if you want but I think you ought to leave them here for Gord and..."

"Virg!"


End file.
